


A pace too fast for heart to follow

by Passerby



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Illness, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, Sad, Short One Shot, contemporary, t for language, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Passerby/pseuds/Passerby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your body and reasoning make you stay, yet your heart and mind still follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A pace too fast for heart to follow

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There's a video that goes with the story.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSZHHaHkrqA  
> I do not own the video, neither the song mentioned in the story - they belong to their respectful authors.

He was tired of being fuckin' tired.

Officials though him to be faking it. As if there would be anything thrilling about going back and forth between this or that specialist like a rag you wipe the floor with. The cherry on top? In the end you always end up at square one because none of the doctors were able to tell what the fuck was wrong with his body. This time was no different, really. Maybe only in the way of getting the test results.

A cardiologist made him wear a special device, periodically measuring his blood pressure. It was the sleeve you are used to when at the doctor, but connected to a little transmitter-lookalike. To make it even more awesome (and to make him look like a fucking stand-hanger), they also added a device for monitoring one's heartbeat. But it wasn't anything he wouldn't manage for few days.

Of course it was a little bit restricting. The blood pressure measuring sleeve made his arm fuckin' die every fifteen minutes (due to its inflating) and he could not move much when wearing the devices altogether. To be honest, they were the most impractical fucking thing in their loose holders in the history of ever. If you'd add a jingle bell to these, he would become a fuckin' crossbreed between a kitty and a raindeer leading the Santa delivery express on Christmas.  
He survived, though.

Today he took the bus to the city in order to get results from the tests. They diagnosed him with low blood pressure – an inborn thing they said. Nothing else was wrong with him at all. He was a perfect picture of a healthy individual.  
He just wanted to scream at them in anger. How come, that he's „healthy“ when just the last year he was able to run six miles under two hours straight and now he would be fucked if even trying to last for damned twenty minutes at the same pace. He used to do pretty high intensity workouts, too, and more.

Back then.

Not anymore.

It felt like somebody switched his body for another's. It felt wrong. He could not even know when his body's gonna shut down. The usual alarm system – known, applied and used by his own body for twenty three years – did not work anymore. No small pains in his side when he breathed the wrong way when running. No shortening of his breath more and more. Yes, his breathing was sure elevated when he exercised, no doubt, but when he picked up to an even faster pace, the breathing did not escalate to shorter and faster intervals. Neither did his side hurt more than just the regular tiny needles being embedded into a pincushion. It did not hurt more, the needles were not viciously _punched_ through the needlecase when he inched towards „the danger zone“.  
His body just shut down, completely out of blue.  
_Then_ he started wheezing, because by then he had serious trouble to catch breath _at all_. He had to sit down in fear the blackness around the corners of his vision would swallow him down, rendering the acompanying cramps not quite as the biggest issue at all.

After every such incident, he always had to rush to the toilet first - not knowing which orifice would contribute to the porcelain god's content. It usually ended up with just threads, but you sure as hell did not get heads up about that and neither did it mean the cramps ended. No. Not at all. The cramps usually called for getting this shit under control again – of course never telling him how to achieve that.

So the only thing that came up to mind was a hot shower or a bath. And then he just collapsed onto his bed, praying to fall asleep soon, before his body would decide to send him on another cramp-round of toilet-shower-slash-bath-bed.

Yeah, he was so totally fine and superhealthy.

Made him remember the Krav Maga trainings he used to go to. His clothes always ended up wet through and through with all the sweat the fast pace of the training forced out of his body. Yet he was genuinely happy then. The release of energy felt so relieving after every training sesion. Sure way to shake all the stress, rigidness of body and thoughts off.

One day, _he_ was there, too, all of a sudden. It was not like in movies – the „the moment they saw each other they knew they're gonna be together for the rest of their oversweetened, diabetes inducing lives“ thing. It was a complete no-rivalry-issues opposite, to be honest. _He_ was just another dude to train defense and offense techniques with.  
It was only after getting to know _him_ better. _He_ was that kind of a person who was not afraid to jump off a bridge with only rope and climbing harness as a safeguard. _He_ was used to those, because rock climbing was _his_ thing as well. Yet, _he_ was still more on the quiet, kind side character-wise.

First time they met outside the training they went abseil together - just because, not minding that nobody else wanted to join the rope, rock, strength and chill out party. Next time was his first try at walking the line - only like...thirty inches above the ground or so. [Major Lazer´s Powerful](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2oACZJFDZ4) always brought up the memory of _him_ offering him his hand back then, later only a finger to help him balance better on the line. Even the barely-there touch of the finger made him feel more safe and relaxed than ever.

But his trip to infinity ended short after that.

Even though they shared the intentions to join army, one of them made it, the other not. They did not even called him for entrance checkup. They probably knew better than him back then already, he thought a little bit bitterly, sitting in an almost empty bus on his way back home from the cardiologist.

His health problems started acting up not long after quitting Krav Maga classes, only a month or two after the line walk. First this, then that and now he was in this fucked up state, not recognizing his own body anymore.

He would've eventually tell him. Not now, though. Not anymore.  
He was long gone and there was no way _he'_ d even think about him. _He'_ d surely not accept the current him.

 _One of the things you have to simply accept in your life_ , he thought again.

His low blood pressure.

A heart just too slow to follow.


End file.
